


An Act of Love

by carolej126



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen, Magnificent Seven AU: Little Britches ATF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4093990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolej126/pseuds/carolej126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally published in Nothing to Chance 11 (Neon Rainbow Press, 2012)</p>
<p>Uncle Ezra receives a special gift from his nephews.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Act of Love

“Ah, hell,” Ezra sighed as he glanced around the small hotel room. A moment later, he automatically reached for his wallet, thumbing through its contents to remove a dollar bill. And then realization dawned. He wasn’t at the office, wasn’t at Chris’s ranch, and there was no swear jar waiting for his contribution.

He smiled, returning the cash to his wallet, mentally making a note to drop a bill or two into the jar anyway when he returned, just for good measure. It was for a good cause, after all, the two boys using some of the money for “special stuff,” as JD called it, and the rest being tucked away into their college fund. He snorted in amusement. At the rate they – the five ATF agents – were going, the boys would have enough money to pay for not only their own expenses, but those of a few friends. 

Ezra’s smile faded, and he sighed again. The hotel room, his home away from home - for only the next two nights, thank goodness - was sparse, and nothing like his usual accommodations. Of course, the ATF was picking up the bill for this one, so that was to be expected. 

But it was still a jolt to his sensitivities. Beige walls with accompanying beige window treatments, colorless paintings of unrecognizable landscapes, and brown bedspreads adorning two double beds - sans pillows, he noted with displeasure - highlighted the room. There was an old fashioned clunky-looking nineteen inch television, but no refrigerator, no microwave, and most importantly, no coffee pot. Ezra shook his head.

His inspection continued. Lavatory amenities included sample-sized shampoo, sample-sized conditioner, sample-sized lotion, and a miniature sewing kit with one needle. A hair dryer was attached to the wall, cord hanging free. One towel, one face cloth, no shower mat. And one of those annoying cheap plastic shower curtains that always insisted on wrapping themselves around the one attempting to take a shower instead of preventing water to escape.

The closet boasted two skirt hangers, one regular hanger, an extra blanket, an iron, and an ironing board.

All in all, a rather dismal place, but, he regretfully acknowledged, tolerable – just barely - for the two nights he was required to stay.

Ezra carried his garment bag to the closet, hanging it up, and then lifted his lone suitcase to the double bed closest to the window. That done, he lowered himself into the chair wedged into the corner, behind a rather rickety-looking round table.

Aside from the faint hum of traffic from the distant expressway, there was only silence. 

It was an unusual occurrence. At work, the noise of computers, phones, and myriad conversations, filled the air. At home, when he had a chance to put his feet up and enjoy a fine chardonnay, classical music soothed his soul.

And when he was at Chris’s ranch… 

He sighed.

At Chris’s ranch, chaos usually reigned, in the form of two small boys that had captured his heart. And given him the title he treasured above all else: Uncle Ezra. 

Out of them all, work, home, and ranch, he knew which one he missed the most.

Ezra looked at his watch. Ten o’clock, local time. He was already tired, despite the time change, and his court appearance was scheduled for 9:00 a.m., so he decided to make an early night of it. He got back to his feet, unzipped his suitcase and removed the bed clothes he’d require for the night. 

Or, at least, he started to. While his maroon silk pajamas and matching robe lay undisturbed, and his neatly folded trousers remained in their place, his shirts had clearly been removed and then refolded. In a style reminiscent of a five- and seven-year-old’s work. 

Curiously, he lifted his shirts, one at a time, placing them on the bed. When he got to the last one, his eyes widened at the sight of a rather furry white tail curled around the collar of his crisp navy blue dress shirt. And underneath that shirt, completely hidden until now, the forms of two very familiar stuffed animals.

He shook his head. Either Cat and Scooby Doo had decided, on their own, to make the trip with him, or Vin and JD had added two of their most treasured possessions to his luggage.

Gently, he removed the two animals from his suitcase. While Scooby Doo was only one of JD’s favorite toys, Cat was a different story. The white stuffed cat had been the very first gift presented to Vin by Chris, only hours after the boys had been found living on the streets, and in Vin’s case, critically injured. And now, it served as a reminder of the bond between them, rarely leaving Vin’s side.

For the young boy to have placed it in Ezra’s suitcase, knowing that it would be out of his sight for the next two days, was an incredible act.

An act of love.

He gave Scooby Doo a fond pat, and then lightly rubbed Cat’s soft fur between his fingers, a smile on his face.

It might have been a little after ten o’clock in the East, but it was only just after eight in Denver. 

“Hey, Ez, something wrong?”

“No, Mr. Wilmington, nothing is wrong.” He paused. “I simply wished to convey my goodnight wishes to the boys.”

He half expected Buck to laugh, and he did, but it wasn’t a laugh of derision, it was one of understanding.

“It don’t take long to miss ‘em, does it?”

Ezra shook his head, despite the fact that the other man would be unable to see his actions. “No, it certainly does not,” he freely admitted.

“I’ll get ‘em for you.” There was a rustling sound, and then a piercing whistle. “Boys, your Uncle Ezra is on the phone.”

“Unca’ Ezra!” he heard the boys squeal in excitement, followed by the sound of pounding footsteps.

With a smile, Ezra dropped back into the corner chair, tucking the phone more securely against his ear. He didn’t want to miss a single word.

~end~


End file.
